


Breached

by hailingstars



Series: Febuwhump [18]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Drowning, Febuwhump, Fever, Fluff, Icey Waters, Platonic Cuddling, Sick Peter Parker, Tony is the Best Dad, it's not really mentioned tho, just assumed, not much substance or plot here guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 20:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: Peter nearly drowns in a frozen lake and wakes up sick. Tony is there for both events.





	Breached

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I ended last story with a sick Peter Parker, too, but I really think it's because I am developing the flu. I chugged a packet of Emergen-C, so hopefully that helps but if I disappear from posting tomorrow, blame the flu. 
> 
> Also! Tomorrow is Time Travel, and I'm fresh out of ideas, so if you wanna see something, suggest it, and if I can make it work, I'll write it!! (if I'm not puking)

The afterlife wasn’t what people thought it was. It wasn’t inviting or warm or filled with people he loved. Instead it was a watery grave. It was cold and bitter and numb. There wasn’t any air to breathe, and Peter was aware he wasn’t breathing, aware that his lungs were being filled with something that wasn’t air as he kicked the nothingness down below and clawed at a sheet of cold, numbness up above. 

His hand broke through, but the real miracle came when the rest of the ice shattered into pieces. With one deafening boom, that even Peter heard with his head under water, the ice broke away, and his head was allowed to breach the surface of the icy lake. 

He wheezed one desperate breath in, and his chest respond with a throbbing ache. Still cold. Still way too cold. Peter splashed around a bit more, then out of nowhere, another miracle swooped down and lifted him from the afterlife by his underarms. And that was cold too, the flight through freezing temperatures. Fortunately for Peter, it didn’t last long.

They were both on their feet, him and Iron Man, and shuffling into their cabin. A series of commanded followed moving inside, to warmth and heat and love. He was carried up the stairs, to his room, where he changed from wet clothes to dry ones and ordered to lay on his bed. Peter didn’t protest, much, his brain was frozen like his fingers and his toes, but he thawed out quick 

“T-tony,” said Peter, as even more blankets were piled on him. The warmth felt nice, but if Tony piled on anymore, Peter like he’d be crushed. “That’s too much. Stop.” 

And, to Peter’s relief, Tony did stop, left the room even, but to his horror, he came back with Pepper’s hair dryer.

“Nooooo….” said Peter, starting to wiggle out of the blankets. 

“Don’t you dare put one arm out of those blankets,” said Tony. He froze, he knew the tone wasn’t one to be messed with, and Tony plugged in the hair dryer. “Now hold still and let me dry your hair.” 

Peter huffed out a heavy sigh so Tony would understand just how annoying he was being but held still while Tony defrosted his hair. It felt nice, actually, and nicer to lay his head against the pillow without the wetness. Once it’s completely dry, Tony switched off the dryer and ran his hand through it, before sitting down on his bed. 

“What were you thinking?” he asked. It was a soft, almost quiet, question, and Peter almost answered when Pepper appeared in the doorway. 

“Tony why does it all of the sudden feel like the Sahara Desert in here?” 

“Uh, because our genius son over here decided to take a dip in the lake,” said Tony. “And he was just about to explain why exactly what was going through his mind.” 

Now that he had four concerned eyes looking at him, he decided he was no longer interested in giving an answer. Saying it out loud would be admitting his failure, and Peter couldn’t do that to both of them at the same time. 

“Nothing,” he said.

“Nothing?” asked Tony. “You expect me to believe you almost died at the bottom of a lake for no reason.” 

Peter’s eyes found the corner of his ceiling and stayed there. “Just leave it, okay?” 

He felt Tony’s focused narrowed into him even if he refused to make eye-contact, and Pepper’s concern was almost felt from across the room. He didn’t care, not in that moment, because his eyelids were starting to feel very heavy. That was Tony’s fault for making him so warm and comfortable. 

“Okay,” said Tony. “We’ll just let you sleep.” 

He got two kisses on the forehead before his lights were shut off, and as soon as he closed his eyes, he was sliding into his dreams, only to be woken up just hours later.

Peter was sweating, burning up, and had to get the mountain of blankets off him. He kicked and kicked but it wasn’t him who sent the blankets to the floor. Tony was back in his bedroom, with his PJs and his bedhead, quickly removing every last layer of bedding until it was just Peter, sweating it out. 

That’s when he realized what was wrong. His throat ache, his nose was stuffy, and his stomach felt off. He was sick.

He looked at Tony and let out a pitiful groan, and the back of Tony’s hand went against his forehead. 

“Yep, you got a fever, kid.” 

Peter let out another groan. 

“Try to go back to sleep. Maybe you’ll sleep it off.” 

Peter sat up in bed and looked at Tony like he was idiot. He didn’t know how he was expected to sleep when he felt like absolute garbage. He didn’t want to close his eyes, he didn’t want to be alone and no one to whine to. 

“Tony,” His voice came out scratchy, and he couldn’t believe he was going to make this childish request, but he was too sick to care about his reputation. At least with Tony. “I want to watch a movie.” 

That was the easiest way for him to say please don’t leave me here to be sick and miserable all by myself. 

“Okay,” he said. “Here, or downstairs.”  
“Downstairs,” said Peter. He slowly got out of bed, wrapped a blanket over his shoulders, and followed Tony. 

They made another nest on the couch, and Peter snuggled up against Tony’s side, laying his head on his chest and waiting for him to tell him to back off, that he had sick germs, but Tony never said that. Instead he put his arm around him and held him closer, then pulled something out of his pocket. 

Peter watched, with unbelief and crushing relief as Tony slid Ben’s lost watch on his wrist. He wanted to jump up, to shout thank yous, but the fever was zapping his fever. He gave a small smile and lifted his wrist, watching the way the sliver reflected the soft glowing light from the TV. 

“How did you know?” 

“I knew you went into that lake for some reason,” said Tony. “You should’ve told me what you were looking for. You know with my suit I would’ve found it in ten seconds flat, and you wouldn't had turned into a sick popsicle.” 

“I was ashamed, I guess. I… I dropped it, and it went in the lake and it freaked me out cause I thought maybe I was forgetting him. I wanted to prove that I wasn’t.” 

“You don’t have anything to prove, kid,” said Tony. He squeezed his shoulder and landed another kiss on his forehead. 

Peter let the conversation die out there and didn’t even pretend to watch the movie. He shut his eyes, focused on listening to Tony’s heart and his breathing, his parent who was still alive and with him, and let that lull him off to sleep.


End file.
